Missing
by 107derwent
Summary: Leaving ain't easy. So is coming back. One-shot.
**A/N:** Hey, everyone! This story is inspired by the song _Ten Dollar Ring_ by Bryan Dunn. It was inevitable to think about HJ when I first listened to it, so I had to come up with something. Hope you guys enjoy it and I would love to hear your thoughts if you got the time. :)

 **Disclaimer:** I own nothing. No money is being made through this story.

* * *

 **MISSING**

His steps were heavy as he walked across the perfectly trimmed lawn. The bright sun above, the multicolored flowers and the sweet scented breeze screamed springtime, the perfect weather for a wedding day, but it wouldn't make him cool down. On the contrary, it freaked him out even more as he knew that was what she'd always dreamt of.

Reaching inside his suit pocket, he pulled out a creamy colored card and checked it one last time. Not that he needed any further confirmation of the time and location, whereas he'd read the curvy printed letters back and forth almost a hundred times before deciding if it was whether or not a good idea to come. In reality, it was more like giving himself a few extra seconds of quietness before facing what he'd been dreading for the last couple of weeks.

He'd been gone for so long. Way too long. And he'd made sure to block out any sort of contact between him and his old life throughout the years. Not that his old friends hadn't tried to reach him. In fact, they had a lot, though the only answer they'd gotten back was silence. Utter silence.

This time something was different though.

 _Freddy Fletcher & Kelly Kelso's Wedding_ said the invitation. It sounded more like a couple of comics superheroes than soon-to-be newlyweds, and he couldn't help finding it amusing and surprising. The last Kelso to get married. He'd never thought this day would come, due to the whorey reputation the good-looking family of morons held in town. Perhaps people happen to grow up after all. Perhaps people happen to change and settle down. Perhaps that was the reason that pushed him to make the decision to come. He needed a change too.

His guts had been trying to tell him that it was a bad idea though, but how many times they'd failed him before? Only so much, and the consequences were usually quite devastating. Maybe it was time for him to leave his pre-judgments aside and take a step of faith. So he took one last breath and stepped inside the white tent. The usher offered him a kind smile at first, but his eyes slightly narrowed a moment later. Behind his signature aviators, the curly haired man could tell the young fellow was trying to recognize his face from a distant past, but decided not introducing himself. The most he went unnoticed, the better.

The bright tent was filled with white wooden chairs, pink flowers, fancy tablecloths and a few dozens of groomed people. Most of them he didn't know – or at least didn't remember – so it wasn't too hard to spot the ones he did know after a quick scan.

Especially the one he'd come here for.

She sat at a round table near the main one, and, with her, his old basement gang plus a few extra faces he didn't bother to notice. He oddly took the shades off to have a better look at her. Her dark locks were pinned up in a perfect hairdo and the tanned skin of her bare arms matched nicely with the lilac dress. Funny. No matter how much she claimed autumn was her season with all its earthy hues, he'd always thought that lavender was the color that better suited her. No wonder that in some of the best memories he held of them – such as their prom night and their second 'first kiss' – she was clad in that damn color.

It didn't take long for her to see him too. He stood far away from her table, at the back of the tent, but the distance wasn't enough to disguise her already big eyes growing wider at the sight of him. Their friends' gazes followed right after, probably driven by her momentary paralysis, as well as the expected stunned faces and discrete whispering.

He didn't care though. Right now, his stare was glued on the brunette's small smile and her tiny fingers dumbly waving at him. Man, he loved her hands. The way they used to scratch his sideburns, or caress his arms, or run around his body sending shivers down the spine… They used to be so soft and gentle, that the mere thought of touching them again made him absentmindedly reach inside his pocket, the corners of his mouth turning up as the velvety material lightly brushed his fingers.

Yes, apparently he'd made the right decision of coming here after all. Screw you, guts!

The clink of a silver knife on a crystal glass soon interrupted his reveries, signaling for the guests that it was time for the best man's toast. He watched as the short brunette on the other side of the salon quickly turned around and raised her champagne flute with her left hand.

And then he saw it.

* * *

Of course he'd missed the ceremony. If she still knew him well enough, churches freaked him out, whilst partying was more his type of fun. It was nice seeing him all dressed up for the occasion though. She always knew he cleaned up good and this time was no different, albeit his discomfort inside the graffiti suit was pretty obvious by the way his index finger clung into the collar of his shirt when their eyes met.

As the best man recited his odds to bride and groom, she discreetly peeked back at the man standing on the back of the tent. His presence was only so much unexpected for her to simply ignore it. Seven years had had so much effect on her – psychologically and emotionally – that she felt the need to figure what time had done to him too, even if right now the only changes she would find would be the exterior ones.

Sure, he looked quite the same. Save from some new facial lines on his forehead, he was still the most badass guy that had ever stepped in this stupid town. Still the curly haired, rock 'n roll lover, rebel stoner she'd met in her teenage years. Still the pretty boy she fell in love with so many years ago.

In between the exchanged glances, his previous smiling eyes were suddenly taken by darkness and melancholy, which made her recoil her own misery. The memory of the last time she saw him – that afternoon he decided to walk out of her life for good – caused a sting to suddenly rise on the back of her eyes. Yeah, if there was one thing that hadn't changed, it was the pain she felt everytime she recoiled that day. _I'm holding you back_ , he'd said, and then he was gone, finally giving her the blessing and chance to move on and find her so deserved happiness. Too bad things don't work out that easily.

The brunette wouldn't be able to keep herself together if she kept staring at him, so she turned back to the main table like all the other hundreds of guests, fixating her mismatched eyes on the standing best man. He said some cheesy input about true love and she decided then would be a good time to release the annoying tears that were begging to spill out. A few salty drops rolled down her rosy cheeks, and she couldn't contain the quiet sniffs and sighs from escaping.

"Are you okay?" A low tone voice whispered to her left ear and she quickly tilted her head to look at its owner.

"Yeah, I'm fine," her shaky voice whispered back in between a forced grin. "It's a beautiful speech, that's all," she lied as her index finger wiped the offending tears from under her eyes.

The dark haired man smiled back at her before lovingly kissing her forehead. He was good to her and a real gentleman, and, realizing that, she genuinely returned the smile, though it wasn't a big bright one. However, it faded away again as soon as their eyes locked. Some would say his eyes were his best feature, the blue iris as clear as today's sky, but for her it was merely a cheap copy of her teenage lover's. They lacked the depth and strength she was used to find on that eye color, not to mention the tiny shades of grey that could only be seen when you look real close.

He held her left hand, entwining their fingers, and the gesture brought her attention down to the big shiny stone on her ring finger. Stupid ring. How she wished it had been given to her by somebody else. Somebody else who was in this same stupid wedding. Somebody else who actually held her heart.

Somebody else who had never been able to commit.

The sudden realization – or maybe the remembrance of it – was enough to put her back together. No use on keep living in the past, trying to relive times when _them_ was a palpable reality. The truth was that it never ceased to be a mere illusion, though it was hard for her to see it clearly while immersed in teenage dreams.

How blind she'd been back then.

How foolish she'd been right now for almost being trapped again in those childish illusions.

How mad she was at herself for still wanting to relive those dreams.

* * *

The brightness of the sparkling diamond startled him, and for a few moments he felt numb and breathless. Fucking guts! Why didn't he trust them this time?

He must've figured it sooner. His fingers held tight the tiny velvet box inside his pocket. The modest jewelry hidden inside of it looked like a joke, a hilarious joke, beside the freaking huge stone displayed on her finger.

The well-groomed best man finished his speech with an enthusiastic "To Kelly and Freddy", and the former burnout quickly seized a glass of whiskey from the tray of a passing by waiter, gulfing almost the entire liquid in one big gulp. A small portion of alcohol may help him handle the situation better.

A few other family members had their three minutes of fame on the microphone before the band started playing again, inviting all guests to join the dance floor. Over his friends' table, a dark haired man stood up and offered his hand to the sitting brunette, who accepted the gesture, letting him lead her to the dancing crowd. As he watched the man embrace her petit body and whisper something to her ear, a bitter taste rose up his throat, which he tried to suppress with another drag of his whiskey. He had been too late. Again.

Putting his shades back on, the frizzy haired boy placed the empty glass on a random surface and stepped out of the cheery tent. His ears felt hot as he walked down the path that led towards the riverbanks several yards away from the party. After a few minutes' walk, the music had finally become inaudible, soaked up by the serene rustle of the river flow.

Sitting down at a nearby bench, he reached inside his pocket again and finally withdrew the small box from it. In a slow move, the velvet cube opened up, revealing the single jewelry he'd kept for so many years. He took the tiny silver band between his thumb and index finger and looked intensely at it, like he'd done so many times before. Had he really thought this would a good idea? Had he really thought she would be waiting for him after seven freaking years? Of course not… Especially because he'd moved out of town exactly to get out of the way between the girl he loved and well… love.

God, it was hard to figure what to feel at this very moment. One of the feelings he was already used to it, as he'd felt it way too many times before. Anger. Anger at himself for being so stubborn. Anger for never saying the right thing at the right time. Anger for never being the man she wanted him to.

But there was something else this afternoon. Something beyond pure hatred. For the first time in his life, the orphan boy felt sorry for himself. Sorry for being fooled by his feelings, for being way too late, for being alone… All over again. It was incredible how he managed to have his heart broken everytime he decided to do the right thing.

Wrapping the other fingers around the piece of jewelry, he stood up and, in a moment of madness, hurled it far into the river. Heaving, he stood there for what felt like an eternity, staring at the fast dark water, before regret took over and he sat back on the bench. Placing the shades down on the white painted timber and clutching his hands into his sandy curls, he finally let his body succumb to the misery he'd been ignoring for seven fucking years.

* * *

By the corner of her eye she glanced back at the spot where her former lover stood, but was startled to realize he wasn't there anymore. She couldn't help her heart skipping at the thought of watching him run away once again. It's been too long. She missed him so much. There was no chance she would let him leave without at least looking at her in the eyes. She had to find him.

The song ended and she excused herself from her fiancé, who hadn't got much time to protest her sudden shift as she quickly strolled towards her red-head friend. Nor her, not her husband, not any of her other friends saw where their missing friend went to. Therefore, each couple decided to go on a different direction, making sure the foreigner and his blonde girlfriend/wife would stay around to outwit any questions about their friends' absence.

The brunette decided for taking the nearest exit of the tent, and soon found herself trotting down the grove by the riverbanks, as best as her high heel shoes would let her. As the sounds of nature became louder than the party ones, she wondered why he'd left out of a sudden. Where was he? Why hadn't he spoken to any of them? Had he regretted coming already?

All unanswered questions ceased rambling inside her head as soon as she spotted the object of her pursuit. He sat at a white bench near the river, and, though she could only see his back, his body language displayed a miserable tiredness.

"Steven?" She called out very quietly. In response, he slowly stretched his spine and turned around to face her. His deep blue eyes – the real blue eyes she missed so much – locked on hers for a while as she held her breath. "Can I join you?" The brunette motioned to the vacant spot beside him and, after a brief hesitation, he scooped to the side to give her some more space.

There was so much to say, but she wasn't sure from where to start. She wanted to know how had he been, where had he been, what had he done, who had he met throughout the years, but nothing seemed right for the moment. Right now, the tiny hint of hope inside her heart only wanted to know _why_ he had come back. She wished it was for her.

"I looked for you everywhere," she told him. "Thought you'd left without saying anything."

"Still planning on that."

"Seriously? You're gone for seven years, and you were gonna leave again without saying a word to your oldest friends?" She asked incredulously, unable to suppress the hint of anger in her tone.

He briefly looked at her, but then his gloomy gaze focused on the soothing water again. "I only came here with one purpose, but –" He stopped and shrugged, unwilling to share any further.

The brunette narrowed her doe eyes at him, mentally ordering him to keep talking to no avail. Indeed, he was still stubborn as hell. Nothing's changed.

Her thin fingers fiddled with the hem of her dress while she plucked up her courage to ask him what was the reason for him to come all the way back from whenever he'd been – or at least to say anything else. She was still at a loss of words.

"It's a nice ring," he said eventually, before she could come up with a good topic.

"It's okay, I guess," she played matter-of-factly with the silver band around her finger.

"Do you love him?"

The question startled her and she quickly looked up, only to notice he was staring back at her, his expression solemn.

"He's good to me," the brunette nodded.

"That's not my question," the statement made her release a tiny chuckle, a very sarcastic one.

"Love only hurt me in the past, Steven. I guess I'm fine this way," she concluded solemnly, averting her eyes to the opposite bank so tears wouldn't start to come up again. He, on the other hand, kept looking at her beauty, a million thoughts inside his head wondering how she'd come to this point of giving up the pursuit of love and happiness. She used to be the most hopeless romantic person he'd ever met, and, though he didn't actually believe in this kind of happily-ever-after crap, he always hung to the thought of her keep moving forward till she finally got what she wanted.

"So what? You're giving up now?" He voiced his thoughts quite inaudibly, the sadness getting deeper as he spoke. Apparently, she didn't notice his misery and swung her head towards him with a pointed look.

"I'm giving up? _I_ am giving up? You're the one who gave up, Steven. You left and you didn't even try to fight for us. You never did."

"I could never give you all the things you needed, Jackie. The perfect wedding, the perfect house, the perfect ring –" He trailed off, recoiling the humble jewelry he attempted to give her.

"I didn't need any of those things," she cut him off, her angry tone suddenly turning into a softer one. "I only needed you. I only _wanted_ you."

"You don't know what you're talking about."

The tired man took a deep breath and stood up, walking slowly closer to the river. The brunette watched him from her seat as he stared vacantly at nowhere in particular with his hands inside his pockets. He was apprehensive, she could tell. He needed to be pushed to say something else, to share what he was feeling even if he hated that, so she also stood up and walked to his side by the river.

"Y'know, all I ever wanted was for you to stay and fight for us," she continued. "Every damn time I wanted you to, but whenever things get tough, you bail. You did that in the past, and you were about to do it again."

She was right, he knew that. There were only so many episodes in their life when he would question her love for him and run away to avoid talking about _feelings_. But what could he do? He was only a kid… Even if he acted all grown up, he was just as immature as his idiotic friends, and that had been his doom. That last time was no different. Instead of staying and trying to change for the better, for her, he walked away thinking it would be the best decision for both of them.

"Would it make a difference if I stayed this time?" He asked turning his face to her. Her downcast eyes quickly looked up followed by a warm smile. Was this the little opening she expected?

"It always has."

Her hopeful smile was endearing. By her answer and the way her upset expression shifted to a brighter one, it was clear she still felt something for him and for a slip second, he thought about caving to say what she wanted him to. However, his mind couldn't let him forget all the bad things he'd done to her.

"Well, I can't," the blue-eyed man said firmly, doing his best to ignore the disappointment spread all over her face. "You're better off without me, just like I told you seven years ago."

The stunned brunette stood still as she watched her former lover walk a few steps further. That was not what she hoped this conversation would turn up to.

"What… Steven, what are you saying?" She stuttered, as soon as she managed to move her legs in his direction, but before she would reach him, he swung around, making her stop on her tracks.

"You were right," he spread his arms wide in resignation, his voice much louder than before. "I'm a coward! I was one back then and I'm one now. I don't deserve you, Jackie…"

His last words were spoken in such pain that she couldn't help having her heart broken for seeing her strong Steven succumb to such distress. "Steven…" The short chick dared to step forward, her soft hands gently clutching to his suit lapels.

Having her that close felt like a dream to him, except that now it was real. Her scent, her touch, her warmth. All real. So he finally surrendered to the urge to touch her, gently resting his forehead on hers as his hands made their way down her hips. They remained like this for forever, reveling only on each other's presence, even though there was so much more they wanted to do.

"I had a ring," he finally told her after releasing a deep sigh. "I came here today to give it to you, but then…" He trailed off, motioning to the river with his head.

The brunette stared wide eyed at her former lover in disbelief, the gap of her mouth expressing her astonishment. So that was his reason. A ring. _The_ ring, just like she wished for, but he'd literally thrown it in the river along with all of his hopes and dreams about them.

"You're unbelievable," she said, and then he knew he'd screwed up again.

"You're better off without me, doll," the sad boy repeated the statement, withdrawing his grip on her, but she wouldn't let him and held his arms around her waist once again as a silent command for him to stay and listen to what she had to say.

"Do you remember what you told me on the last time I saw you?"

"That I was holding you back?"

"After that." Her tiny hands slipped up the graffiti suit and rested on the nape of his neck, making the small portion of skin tingle on that area. "You told me we both deserved happiness. Well, are you happy, Steven?" His long hesitation almost made her cry for the second time that day, but eventually he shook his head no, so she smiled relieved. "Me neither," she affirmed. "The last time I remember being truly happy, I was lying on a stupid cot inside the most insanitary room ever."

The memories of their nights together in his basement bedroom were still fresh in his mind too and he quietly chuckled at it, even though his gaze had traveled to the dark water again, as an attempt to avoid the hope her blue and green eyes were causing to rise on him.

"I don't think we can go back to those times, Jackie."

"We don't have to." She cupped his face inside her hands, coaxing him to look back at her. "We gotta move forward, Steven. Together. I don't care if there's a ring or not. You just have to say the word."

It was his final chance. One door led to the predictable life he'd been living for the past seven years, the one without big surprises or disappointments, but full of misery and loneliness. The second door to the mystery of a life with the only chick he'd ever loved, but the chance to screw it up again, like he'd done so many other times.

Was he ready for it like she'd always dreamt of? Could he finally make her happy as he wished for?

He knew himself better than anyone else, so there was only one right answer for those questions.

* * *

 _A few miles (and years) down the river…_

The cold water around her ankles sent shivers up her spine, despite the warm sunny afternoon. She could see her feet get surrounded by the brown sand, dirtying up her painted toenails, but she didn't really care. The sensation was good; no wonder she would spend a few minutes on the shallow area almost every day since the first day here.

She watched the bright sun reflect on the crystal clear water tiny waves like thousands of shiny diamonds, when a distinct sparkle grabbed her attention. Crouching down, she stuck her hand inside the freezing river and withdrew the unfamiliar object from the muddy ground. Realizing what it was, she quickly ran back through her backyard green lawn, where a blue eyed man lazily laid on a large picnic towel.

"Look what I found," she exclaimed, kneeling down beside him. He sat up and took his shades off to have a better look at the dirty object, only to have his once sleepy eyes opened wide at the sight of it.

"It's your ring –" He said kind of dumbly, and she scowled.

"Of course it's my ring. I'm the one who found it," the brunette chided.

"No, dummie" he spoke more firmly, taking the silver band from her hands and holding it up close to your face. "That's _your_ ring."

The vehemence which he said those words made her stare dumbfounded at him. Was it the same ring he had attempted to give to her a few years ago?

"Are you serious?" He nodded and she couldn't contain the smile on her face as she retook it from his hands. "God, that's so beautiful!" Tiny pools of tears formed on her green and blue eyes as she drank the piece of jewelry in. The diamond wasn't as big as the one she'd once worn on her finger, but it was way more perfect, just like the one who bought it.

Her reaction startled him. He'd once thought that that ring wouldn't be good enough for her, but time was teaching him now that he had been wrong. Way wrong by the way her eyes sparkled at the sight of it.

"Do you like it?" He offered that smirk she so loved.

"It's perfect, baby."

So he took her left hand in his, while holding the slightly dirty band only an inch away from the tip of her ring finger. Looking at her already crying eyes, the curly haired man said "Jackie Burkhart, will you marry me?"

The brunette started laughing and crying at the same time at his silliness. "I don't think my husband would be thrilled to know somebody else asked me in marriage," she informed him.

"I know your husband, and he wouldn't mind it."

"I'm not so sure about that."

"Just say yes and shut your piehole," he joked and she nodded enthusiastically. Following her confirmation, he placed the jewelry on her finger beside the already existing wedding ring that paired with his own.

And there it went another spring afternoon on the Hyde's backyard, where the river washes away old wounds and retrieves what's been lost back to its owner. A missing jewelry, a missing lover, a missing hope.

 **#**

 **THE END**


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